


Frying Pan

by QueenBeastie



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 06:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1540793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBeastie/pseuds/QueenBeastie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The food synthesizer is not working, and the Doctor has a new idea of how everyone will get breakfast. It's a rather bad idea, actually, according to Nyssa. (Inspired by fanfiction.net writer albert12's story "Things not to do on the TARDIS")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frying Pan

A morning that was not actually morning but more like the TARDIS drifting through deep space where mornings did not exist found Tegan Jovanka slapping the food synthesizer and shouting abuse at it. “Come on, you stupid thing! I said I wanted eggs and bacon!” She gave it another good whack when it continued to refuse to work.

“Oi, what do you think you’re doing?” said the Doctor, who had walked into the room just before the final hit. He pulled her hand away from the synthesizer, which was about to make contact with the side of it again.

“Well it won’t give me what I want!”

“Yes, well, you have to say please first, now don’t you? How would you like it if I went and smacked you upside the head demanding food, hmm?”

“You’d end up with that stick of celery off your lapel and replaced up your -- ”

“Adric!” the Doctor interrupted. “Good morning.”

“Morning, Doctor,” the boy yawned. He went to stand with the others by the food synthesiser and began to press the button for buttered toast.

“Don’t bother,” said Tegan, already pissed off at the record time of 8:30 in the morning. “The dratted thing won’t work.”

“What? Even when you say please?”

“See?” said the Doctor, gesturing to Adric. “At least someone listens!”

The Alzarian shook his head over the machine. “No good, Doctor. It won’t work.”

“What? Let me see.” The Time Lord pushed the others aside and looked over the food synthesizer himself. He placed his glasses on his nose and placed his hands importantly behind his back, getting into observation mode.

Tegan rolled her eyes. “Do you really need those glasses or do you just wear them to make yourself look smarter?”

“Yes,” the Doctor responded, then continued to inspect the machine. He pressed a couple buttons, turned a dial, tapped the screen, then finally gave the side of the synthesizer a good whack himself. He finally came to the conclusion that yes, the food synthesizer was indeed broken.

“Well I could have told you that, Doctor,” said Adric.

“Yes, thank goodness we had you and your expertise to help us out of that one,” said Tegan a bit less kindly.

“What’s going on in here?” came a voice by the door. Everyone turned their heads to find Nyssa standing in the threshold.

“The synthesizer won’t give us any food,” said Adric

“Not even when you say please?” said Nyssa as she went over to join them around the machine.

“What are we supposed to do for food, then?” said Tegan, crossing her arms. “I don’t suppose there are any breakfast diners in deep space?”

“No, but there are...” the Doctor took off out of the room. From the kitchen, the others could hear a racket from one of the nearby rooms that the Doctor called closets (which were all actually large enough to house all four of them if it had been needed) and the sound of metal against metal. A moment later, he returned, pulled something out from behind his back, and finished, “...frying pans! The only one on the TARDIS, actually.”

“Where did you get that?” asked Nyssa.

“From over there.” The Doctor gestured to the other room.

“I meant, what planet,” Nyssa clarified patiently.

“Oh. Um, I can’t remember, actually. All I can recall are the words “shove off” and a bump on my forehead that I received when the owner accidentally missed my hands.” For a moment, the Doctor rubbed the spot on his head as he thought back to the memory, then he shook himself out of it and continued, “Anyway...Nyssa! I am declaring you official Frying Pan Advisor until the food synthesizer is repaired!” He handed her the pan.

Nyssa grasped it in her hand, her left eyebrow raised. Giving the Doctor a peculiar look, she said quietly, “And what does that mean?”

“Doctor...” Adric muttered warningly as he began to shuffle closer to Tegan and farther away from Nyssa.

“Hmm?” said the Doctor mildly. “Well, in short, it means that it is now your job to fix us all breakfast.”

“Is that right?” Nyssa began to tap the pan against her left hand, jaw set dangerously, uncharacteristically cross.

“Yep. I believe the stove is over there.” The Doctor pointed to a corner of the kitchen. “Hasn’t been used in years, but I think it still works well enough.” When no one moved to do anything, he clapped his hands with a smile and said, “Well then, hop to it!”

Adric was now cowering behind Tegan, and Tegan for once had her mouth shut tight with her arms grasping his behind her, as if hoping to shield the boy from the danger that was about to ensue.

In short, the end of the conversation found Nyssa smiling over freshly cooked eggs at the table, Tegan and Adric eating in silence on either side of her, and the Doctor in the corner of the room fixing his own breakfast on the pan that now had a Doctor-sized head dent in the middle of it. He had a bandage over the same spot that the pan had hit him the last time -- on Earth, now that he remembered -- and much like Tegan, for once his mouth was shut.

From the table, he could hear the sound of a fork clinking against a plate, which was followed by Nyssa’s voice, which said, “More eggs, please, Doctor. Hop to it!”


End file.
